It's Winter again and I sound like an asbestos factory worker with a 4-pack-a-day habit.

Yes, that's right folks, Kato popped his out of his cubicle and saw his shadow which means six more weeks of mucus!

Joy of joys. From this point on you can just call me "Throaty McLozenge" (of the Ohio McLozenges, not the Boston McLozenges who are distant cousins). I already have enough gripes about the winter, might as well tack on a constant hacking cough to the mix. My lungs are like a canary in a coal mine, sensitive little buggers. Air too dry? Cough. Air too cold? Cough. Time to go to bed? Cough. Time to get up? Cough. Showering? Cough. Drown.

Fortunately the coughing usually stops after I've shredded the Hell out of my lung tissue by expelling air (and god knows what else) from them at velocities that I can only assume exceed several times the speed of sound. I am certain my coughing is accompanied by sonic booms, which makes me a minor superhero, I think, though that is only a slight comfort. When I've tired myself out I spend the rest of the time in a perpetual state of throat-clearing. You know, like "Hey, Bob, ahem, I was looking ahem over the test aheeeem results and ahem ahem I think we should ahem focus ahem our ahem efforts on aheeeeeeeeeem examining ahem the DNA ahem evidence [trails off into another minute of 'ahem' throat-clearing]"

Whatever. Maybe I'm exaggerating. Winter still sucks.

Hope you all aren't suffering like I am. Spring, don't forsake me!

MCLozenge out.